


I Want to Go With You

by RosieTheRo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Established BDSM Relationship, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Safeword Use, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTheRo/pseuds/RosieTheRo
Summary: It's been some time since Alfred couldn't follow Toris. He wants to try again.Sequel to "Can't Go There."Warnings in beginning notes.





	I Want to Go With You

**Author's Note:**

> well _this_ has been a wip for god knows how long, pretty much since i posted "Can't Go There" to the kink meme. wow.
> 
> the whole premise is basically "what if they tried again but alfred was into it?" so, several years and rewrites later, here we are.
> 
> fair warning, this is a violent fic. everything being done is consensual and it's sandwiched by fluff and good BDSM etiquette, but the scene being played out involves rape, domestic violence, and death threats, and could be upsetting. read at your own discretion.
> 
> read the original fic here (and don't judge my 2013 writing skills too harshly pls) : https://archiveofourown.org/works/618596

“Hey, hon, are you in the middle of anything?”

“Not particularly, no.” Well, technically he is, but talking with Alfred is far more enjoyable than cleaning out his email. Toris closes his laptop and smiles, resting his chin on his fist. “Did you need something?”

Alfred approaches the table with two mugs of hot coffee, one pale with copious amounts of milk and the other almost ink black. He places the black one in front of Toris and takes a seat himself, thumbing the handle of the mug nervously and staring into the swirling coffee.

A serious conversation then, Toris realizes, and cups his mug in his hands. “Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing really like that,” Alfred says, absentmindedly dropping a sugar cube into his drink. “Just been, uh… thinking, about something.”

“About what?”

Alfred looks up. He doesn’t seem nervous, but there’s a tense air about him. Embarrassed perhaps?

“Do you remember that scene we did a couple months back? In the alley?”

Oh, Toris remembers. He remembers very well, the thrilling mix of fight-or-flight adrenaline and shameless arousal that sent his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his ears - cornered and pinned against the wall and protesting, Alfred’s hands all over him, rough and cruel and so unlike him but it’s what Toris wanted and Alfred just wanted so badly to make him happy.

But he also remembers the hands being gone, the cool air of the alley suddenly hitting him, and opening his eyes and seeing Alfred against the other wall, face down and shoulders hunched, and all he could do was shake his head and say, “I can’t do this, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m so sorry…”

Even now, despite seeing Alfred in such a state, a part of Toris still longs for that violence, that helplessness, to be left aching and whimpering and utterly used. 

He’s never planned to bring it up again though, not after that night.

“I… yes, I remember.”

Toris thought that was behind them, that they’d put that kind of play aside and stuck to tamer things, where there was no need for safe words because “stop” always meant “stop,” and even when there was pain involved the response was always positive and enthusiastic. That’s what Alfred prefers - the reassurance that this is okay, that Toris is begging and crying because he wants more, because this is good for him, this is what he needs. He can’t stand to see Toris frightened, unwilling, even though they were only playing roles and Toris promised him over and over beforehand that it would be okay, Alfred couldn’t follow him to such a dark place.

“I’ve been thinking about it lately,” Alfred explained, stirring his coffee. “And, well, I know how much you like that kinda stuff… um… so, I figured, maybe we could give it another shot?”

...Or, maybe he could.

Toris blinks, taken aback. “Are you sure? Really sure? You were so upset last time, I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“That's what I've been thinking about, though,” Alfred says. “Like, what was it that set me off. I thought, maybe, if I could figure that out, and then we change the scene - I mean, I just want to take care of you, and you wanted it so bad so I want to try-”

“Stop right there.” Toris holds a hand up and stares firmly. “Listen. Whatever I want, however badly I want it, it is _not_ worth you traumatizing yourself to give it to me. Do you understand that?”

Alfred’s shoulders slump a little but he smiles, an affectionate little grin as he peers up from behind his glasses. “Of course I do, hon. But, I’m being serious.” He reaches across the table and takes Toris’ hand in his, strokes his knuckles, and looks at him with utter sincerity. “I think we can make it work. I won’t do anything I can’t do, I promise, but, I want to try.”

Toris sighs, and intertwines their fingers. “If you really think you can do it, then okay, we’ll try again. But, we need to take the time to talk this over properly first, alright? Well, not that we didn’t before but…”

Alfred chuckles and lifts their hands, pressing Toris’ palm to his mouth with a kiss. “I know what you mean. Shouldn’t rush headlong into these sorts of things, huh?”

Toris shakes his head with a wry smile. “Definitely not.”

“I do think I know what the major issue for me was, though,” Alfred mused. He puts Toris’ hand down and sips his coffee, giving himself time to think. “You were… god, I can’t think of a nice way to put this.”

“Go on,” Toris prompts gently. “I won't be mad.”

Alfred takes another drink. “Well… you were just kind of a victim. Playing one, I mean. It was too passive, I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand seeing you just give up like that.”

Toris hums thoughtfully. “What if I didn’t give up?”

“That’s what I was thinking of, yeah,” Alfred nods. “Yell at me to stop, don’t beg. And don’t hold back on hitting me, ‘cause I can take it.”

Toris chuckles. “I know you can.” He takes a deep breath, and squeezes Alfred’s hand. “This is good. This is a good start.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Leaving his coffee, Toris stands and circles the table, arms looping around Alfred’s shoulders as he dips and kisses the crown of his head. “I want you to keep thinking about this over the next week or so, okay? Anything you think of, any concerns or potential triggers, you tell me about it.”

Alfred snickered. “I thought I was supposed to tell you what to do?”

“That’s only after the scene starts,” Toris smirked, prodding Alfred’s cheek playfully. “Until then, we look after each other.”

And they do talk. They talk about triggers and safe words and hypotheticals, what’s okay and what’s not okay, what Toris wants and what Alfred thinks he’ll be able to do. They try to sort out every grey area, every possible unknown until they’re sure, they’re _both_ sure, that this will be okay.

And when they’re lazily spooning on the couch watching old B-movies and the clock ticks past midnight, because they both have the day off tomorrow and can afford to stay up late watching nonsense on TV, and Toris turns in Alfred’s arms, kisses his chin, and asks, “Do you want to try that scene tomorrow?”

Then, Alfred knows for sure that it’s going to be okay, because that question fills him with excitement instead of dread.

“Yeah. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

Toris sends Alfred off with a short list of errands the next morning. Nothing major, just enough to get him out of the house.

“Be in character by the time you get back,” Toris tells him, adjusting his tie, and Alfred notices his gaze lingers on the knot. “We’ll start then.”

Alfred swallows. “Okay, got it.”

Toris gives him that firm look again, and puts both hands on his cheeks so they’re staring right at each other.

“It’s never too late to back out,” he says, voice quiet but tone stern. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times this week but it’s important.”

Alfred smiles. “I know, hon. I’ll say something if I need to, but-”

He leans forward, kissing Toris’ nose and catching him by surprise.

“ _You’d_ better speak up too if you have to, alright? I know this is your whole thing, but I gotta make sure you’re okay too.”

Toris smiles and chuckles. “I will.”

“You promise?”

“Only if you promise.”

Alfred laughs. “I promise.”

“So do I.”

He tugs Toris forward and kisses him, squeezing him just a little possessively and humming against his mouth.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Take as long as you need,” Toris reminded him, and Alfred got the sense he wasn’t talking about taking his time with the errands.

“It won’t be too long.”

He leaves with anticipation brewing in his gut. He’s kind of surprised that he doesn’t feel anxious or uneasy, at least a little bit, as he drives around town. He is a bit lost in his own head, not with worry, but daydreams, thinking about Toris, how excited he looked in the foyer, the gratitude in his eyes, the look of sheer delight and ecstasy he gets on his face when Alfred hurts him in _just_ the right way.

In a way, he’s kind of looking forward to beating the crap out of Toris.

Maybe Toris is rubbing off on him in reverse, he wonders as he drives back towards Toris’ house in the country, making Alfred more of a sadist as he explores his own masochism. He never really thought he could enjoy leaving bruises, bites, and scratches on someone like that, but it does something really, really good for Toris. Even with the sessions that end in bleeding and tears, he’s smiling, curled up in Alfred’s arms and whispering his thanks and love through hiccups and sniffs, and a palpable calmness sets into him that can last for days at a time, a stark difference from his usual self.

Alfred isn’t sure he would have ever grown to like this stuff if Toris wasn’t so into it, but he’s glad he’s developed a taste for it. There’s something pavlovian about it - seeing Toris smiling and relaxed and happy with hand-shaped bruises lingering around his neck - associating inflicting the pain with soothing the anxiety, and enjoying them both.

He’s smiling wide, heart fluttering with anticipation and adoration as he pulls into the driveway, and he has to force his face into a scowl. He can’t be a caring, loving boyfriend and responsible dom at the moment. He’s playing an angry, abusive spouse right now, one who’s had a shitty day at work and is going to take it out on his partner, and it’s a bit hard to stay in character because he loves Toris so much and wants to greet him with a big hug and kiss like he always does when he comes home.

But, it’s okay, because there are going to be so, so many hugs and kisses later.

Toris is in the kitchen, cutting potatoes he won’t cook and not really paying attention to them, biting his lip with excitement. He’s heard the car door slam shut and now it’s just a matter of minutes before they start to play. He molds himself into character: he's the subdued partner of an angry, possessive man whose threatened him with violence before, and he's finally had enough. He's going to stand up to him tonight, scream in his face in defiance, and then get the shit beaten out of him for stepping out of line.

The front door slams, and he tenses, rigid with anticipation.

Alfred’s doesn’t say anything, just walks heavily through the foyer and hall. Somehow, he’s so quiet and so loud at the same time, and Toris is unnerved in the best of ways. There are goosebumps on his arms but he keeps his eyes down at the counter, chopping robotically, as Alfred enters behind him.

And the game begins.

Toris is so tense he jumps slightly when Alfred loudly dumps a bag of groceries on the table.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks suddenly, rudely.

“Potato dumplings,” Toris replies, tone clipped.

There’s a pause. He can hear Alfred shifting on his feet.

“You know I hate that shit,” he says finally.

A bold-faced lie if ever there was one. Alfred practically inhales Toris’ dumplings, or anything he cooks really.

“Well, it’s what I’m cooking, so it’s what you’ll be eating,” Toris snaps back.

Alfred doesn’t answer, and Toris keeps his eyes down, pretending to ignore him even though he’s hyper-aware of the footsteps coming up behind him.

He drops the knife when Alfred grabs him, leaves himself defenseless as he’s swung around and forced to face him. Alfred's large hand is squeezing his arm so tight it's going to bruise, and his glare is so harsh it makes Toris's courage wither and his cock throb.

"I am getting pretty fucking sick of your attitude," Alfred growls, right in his face. "I give you food to eat and a roof over your head and all I get is your ungrateful bitching!"

They’re in Toris’ house in the countryside right now, far away from well-intentioned neighbors who might call the police, but that doesn’t really matter for the sake of the scene.

Toris glares back at him, just as hard, and tries to wrench his arm away. "That's all you deserve!" he spits. "You keep me locked up in here like I'm some kind of prisoner instead of your goddamned husband!"

Alfred holds him tighter, and grabs his other arms, shoving him back against the counter. "How the fuck else am I supposed to keep you in line? How am I supposed to make sure you don't run off with someone else like the fucking slut you are?!"

"I've never even _looked_ at anyone else, you paranoid psychopath!" Toris snarls, trying to shake him off.

"Fucking liar," Alfred growls, digging in his nails. "I saw your eyes all over that blond's legs, do you think I'm fucking stupid!?"

Toris nearly laughs, because out of the two of them, Alfred had clearly had a more difficult time not staring at Feliks’ new miniskirt. He catches himself though, and glowers.

"Maybe if you would treat me like an actual human being I wouldn't be looking elsewhere!" Toris shoots back, still trying to wriggle free. 

Alfred slaps him, hard across the cheek, making him cry out in pain and surprise. It stings.

In the best of ways.

"You're mine, you hear me?" Alfred snarls, grabbing Toris's jaw and forcing him to face him. "You don't tell me what to do!"

He kisses Toris forcefully, biting hard on his bottom lip. He pushes him backwards over the counter and grinds against him. And even though he squirms and protests, Toris’ hips roll purposefully and Alfred can feel his cock hard against his thigh. 

Toris wriggles a hand free. “Don’t you _dare_ touch me!”

Alfred had said he was fine with getting hit, but it still took him by surprise when Toris’ fist swung up and struck him in the side of his jaw. That’s good though, it’s reassuring. He feels better, knowing Toris isn’t afraid to fight back.

He also feels better knowing he’s going to come out of this with his fair share of bruises too.

“Little shit!” he growls, shoving Toris back against the counter and grabbing him by his hair. “Just who the hell do you think you are?!”

Toris pants heavily, glaring at him out of the side of his eye. Alfred doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look so pissed off in his life. His lip is bleeding where Alfred bit him and there's an angry red mark on his cheek where he slapped him, but his eyes are blazing with defiance and rage, glaring up at him unwaveringly, no longer squirming.

It's the same as last time, because Alfred can see past his act and recognize the excitement and pleasure in his face.

But it's also different, because this time, he can tell Toris isn't going to give up.

"Let. Me. Go," Toris growls slowly, voice low and thick. 

"Make me," Alfred snarls, and pushes him into another kiss.

Toris scratches and beats at his chest, protesting against his mouth as his nails catch and snag on his buttons. Alfred presses closer, shoving a thigh between his legs, when he feels Toris trembling against him and his stomach drops a little.

“Mm-wait, yellow,” he pants, pulling back and looking Toris in the eye. “Babe, you okay? You’re shaking.”

“Yes,” Toris gasps. His eyes are wide and dark and he’s breathing heavily. “Yes, just… a bit overstimulated. But - I’m alright.”

Alfred pulls the hand out of his hair and rests it on Toris’ cheek. “Need a break?”

Toris shakes his head. “No, no, this is exactly what I want.” He smiles, a little wobbly but genuine, and Alfred feels better. “Can… can we keep going?”

“Sure thing, hon.”

He finds himself melting back into character easily, sliding his hand from Toris’ cheek to his shirt and hoisting him up by the collar so they’re face-to-face. Toris isn’t that much shorter than him, but he is forced to stand up on his toes. 

"You know what you are, bitch?" he sneers. "You're nothing, _nothing_ without me and you know it! So shut your fucking mouth and do what you're fucking told!"

Toris doesn’t waver, and snarls right back at him, scrabbling at his wrists. “Rot in hell!”

Alfred scoffs and drops him, making Toris stumble back into the counter where he pins him again, grabbing him by the chin and turning him to face him. Physically weaker and trapped, Toris continues to resist the only way he has left, determinedly not meeting Alfred's eyes. Alfred growls.

"Look at me."

Toris glares at the oven.

"I said, _look at me!"_

"No!"

"Dammit, bitch, do what I tell you!"

"Fuck you!"

Toris actually spits at him, catching his cheek. In character, Alfred is furious, but in reality, it might just be the most unexpectedly hot thing to come out of one of these scenes. 

“That’s it,” he snarls, yanking Toris down by his hair and forcing him to bend over. He wrestles him to the ground, Toris swinging and kicking and getting a few decent hits in, but Alfred is much stronger.

And, in all honesty, Toris isn’t really trying to escape at all, because he’d be mad to want to stop now. 

He’s forced face-down to the floor with a yelp, Alfred’s knee pressed into his back.

“Alright, seeing as you won’t shut your mouth and do what’s best for you,” Alfred snarls, undoing his tie. “I’m gonna have to force you to listen.”

He crawls on top of Toris, pinning his hands above his head and winding the tie around his wrists. He doesn’t pull too tight, not wanting to risk cutting off blood flow, but it’s tight enough to hurt.

Just like how Toris likes it.

Hands bound, Toris can only kick and scream under Alfred, thrashing wildly until he’s suddenly hoisted into the air and thrown over Alfred’s shoulder, legs pinned by his arms.

“Put me down!” he demands, beating his bound fists against Alfred’s back as they scale the stairs. “Put me the fuck down!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Alfred snaps back, striking him hard across the ass.

Toris yelps, but doesn’t shut up at all, kicking and shouting the whole way upstairs until Alfred throws him on the bed and crawls on top of him.

“I'm gonna put you in your place once and for all," he growls. "Even if it kills you!"

Toris swears at him in Lithuanian and gets a smack to his cheek in return.

Alfred rolls him onto his front and pulls his arms up towards the bed frame. They planned ahead, almost every detail, and there’s a coil of rope on the bedside table already. Alfred grabs it and leaves his glasses in its place, looping the rope around the tie and Toris’ wrists, tying him to the slats in the headboard. He then tears Toris's shirt off, buttons scattering, exposing his scarred back.

Even tied down, Toris continues to thrash and kick as Alfred sits up on his knees. He watches for a moment, taking a second to catch his breath and check in with himself. The bondage is nothing new, and even the role-play is going well so far, but this next part has him a little worried.

His hands travel down to his belt, unbuckling it, and he pauses.

They’ve done this before, but never during a scene like this.

It doesn’t hurt to double-check.

“Yellow.”

Toris goes still and peers back at him. “Are you okay?”

Alfred swallows. “Yeah, just… you _promise_ me you’ll safe-word if it’s too much, alright? Too much pain, too much yelling, too much anything, okay?”

Toris seems to get it, and he smiles. “I will.”

Alfred smiles back, relieved and reassured. He bends down and kisses Toris’ bruising cheek, “Okay. Okay, thank you. Good to go?”

Toris nods. “Yes.”

Everything’s okay.

Alfred grabs Toris by the hair and forces his head down into the bed.

“You’re fucking dead,” he snarls, clambering off the bed and pulling off his belt. He folds it in his hand, looming over the bed.

“Go to hell!” Toris screams back at him.

Alfred doesn't respond with words this time, and instead, swings the belt over his head and whips it down onto the pale, scarred skin below him.

Toris howls, spasming with pain as the belt collides with his back. It stings horribly, and he can almost feel the welts forming after the belt's been lifted again.

"Are you going to listen?" Alfred demands, raising the belt again.

"Fuck off and die!"

Alfred hits him with the belt again, striking across the angry red mark left by the first hit.

He hits him again, and again. Five hits in, and Alfred tears off his pants and underwear, leaving Toris naked on the bed. Then he picks up the belt again, and beats him three more times across the ass. 

Toris is screaming at him the whole time. "Fuck you! Let me go! I hate you!"

More, don't stop, I love you.

Alfred's breathing heavily and Toris's back and ass are covered in long, angry red welts. Some of them are bleeding.

"So," Alfred pants. "You done being a whiny little bitch yet?"

He reaches preemptively for the lube, pours some over his hand.

Toris is moaning in pain, nearly sobbing, but he still growls and spits "I hope you rot in hell," over his shoulder.

Alfred scowls. He doesn't answer, and instead just crawls on top of Toris and shoves two slick fingers up his ass. Even though they planned for Toris to prepare himself while Alfred was away, it can’t hurt to apply more.

Toris screams, writhing underneath him. "Get out, get off of me!"

"Shut up, you little shit!" Alfred snarls, dragging the nails of his other hand down Toris's abused back. More blood is drawn, and Toris howls in pain. 

And probably pleasure. No, _definitely_ pleasure. Kinky bastard, Alfred thinks affectionately.

"Now keep quiet," he snaps, pulling his fingers out and smacking Toris's bruising backside harshly.

Toris does not keep quiet. He curses and kicks and yanks on his arms, rattling the headboard. Alfred leaves him for now, standing up to pull off his pants and shirt. 

He's harder than he expected to be, considering what happened last time. He is enjoying this.

He glances at Toris while he fishes around for a condom in the nightstand. As he's thrashing on the bed, Toris rolls slightly onto his side for a moment, exposing his front to Alfred. His cock is fully upright, curving against his belly, and there's little stains of precome on the sheets.

Alfred can't help but smile, just a little, as he rolls the condom on. They’re both enjoying this.

"The fuck did I just say?!" Alfred roars, grabbing Toris by the hair and shoving his face down into the sheets. "Keep your damn mouth shut or I'll punch your teeth out!"

Toris twists his head and manages to bite him, leaving deep marks on his thumb.

"Fuck!" Alfred jerks back, nursing his hand. "You're gonna pay for that!"

"Die in a ditch!"

Alfred growls, grabbing Toris's hip with one hand and lining himself up with the other. "I'll show you!"

With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside of Toris, pushing in deep until he's sheathed to the base. He bites down on Toris's shoulder, and starts thrusting. There's blood in his mouth, and he moans.

Toris screams and thrashes beneath him, twisting on the bed, tugging on the rope round his wrists, legs scrambling on the sheets.

Pushing himself back up against Alfred's hips to meet his thrusts.

"I'll kill you!" Toris cries out, voice screeching and wavering. "The minute you-aah!-f-fall asleep tonight, you're fucking dead!"

"You wouldn't dare," Alfred groans, rolling his hips. "You-nng... you wouldn't know what to do without me!"

He presses down on Toris, chest to his beaten back, trapping him against the mattress.

"Face it, bitch," he growls, mouth right by Toris's ear. "You're mine, and you fucking know it."

He bites Toris's earlobe, hard, and digs his fingers into Toris's sides, leaving more red marks in the wake of his nails. 

"N-no!" Toris yelps, and Alfred can hear his voice catch and stutter as he starts crying. "No, I-I'm-"

He briefly wonders how he's still hard, how's he's still enjoying this.

"You're fucking what?" Alfred snarls back, grabbing Toris by the hair and twisting his head around, forcing him to look at him.

It's because he knows now. He knows the difference now, between the good-hurt and the bad-hurt. He knows that Toris knows exactly what he wants.

Toris is a mess - red faced and sobbing, lip bleeding, cheeks bruised and tear stained, but he stares back at up Alfred, unwavering, defiant, enraged.

Adoring, excited. Grateful.

"I'm n-not yours - _ooh!"_

His eyes are fluttering. He's going to come soon. 

Under the tears and bruises, he looks so happy.

"You're nothing without me!" Alfred pants, looming over Toris, pressing so close he's almost smothering him against the mattress. "You... you useless..."

He's getting close, too.

"W-worthless piece of... aah-!"

Without thinking, he worms a hand under Toris's body, wraps it around his cock, and starts pumping.

"Stupid -nn!- bitch, b-!"

It's getting harder to think of insults now.

"B-beautiful fucking angel oh god Iloveyou _somuch-!"_

He can't help it when he comes, affection spilling out of his mouth in a rush as he buries his face in Toris's shoulder, hips thrusting furiously. He feels Toris come in his hand a second later and his chest swells with adoration, especially when Toris bursts out laughing so suddenly it almost startles him.

“Aaah-Alfred-” he gasps, shaking with mixed sobs and laughter. “Hh-haa, y-you, oh god, you are _ridiculous!”_

Alfred laughs, abashed, and eases himself down next to Toris gingerly. “I, uh, kinda ruined the moment there, huh?”

Toris doesn’t respond right away, face buried in a pillow and trembling, making little muffled noises. 

“Hon?” Alfred reaches out and gently pushes his hair aside, met with a bruised and tear-stained, but smiling, face, green eyes sparkling.

“You’re wonderful,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, and hiccups.

Alfred’s heart melts, and he can’t help but smile. “How are you doing?” he asks as he unties the knots around Toris’ wrists. “Anything not feeling right?”

Toris sighs, and his whole body sinks into the bed. “Good… hurts, but it's the right kind of a hurt.” He's still sniffling a bit, but the tears have stopped.

Alfred tosses the rope and tie aside, not caring where they land, and only gives the condom enough thought to make sure it's tied off and lands in the trash can. Toris is his top priority right now, clean up comes later.

“Wanna cuddle?”

“Yes please,” Toris mumbles, rolling easily into Alfred’s embrace as he tugs the blankets around them both. He wraps Toris up in his arms and legs, holding him tight enough to be snug but not painful. Curled up all around him, he gently rubs Toris’ sore back and bottom, soothing the stinging ache while he breathes. The bleeding has already stopped, but the welts are still a bright, angry red. Alfred makes a mental note to get some disinfectant on there before too long.

He's feeling the results of their mock fight too - especially the ache in his jaw.

“You got a mean uppercut, you know that?” he mumbles, lips brushing Toris’ forehead. 

Toris snorts, face pressed against Alfred’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“Don't be. You did so great, babe,” he cooes, kissing Toris’ brow. “Seeing you fight like that, well… that was really fucking hot, I'm not gonna lie.”

Toris’ eyes stay shut, but he smiles wide. “I'm so glad you could enjoy that too.”

“You enjoyed it then? That’s what you needed?” 

“ _Exactly_ what I needed.” Toris somehow goes even more limp in his arms, like every breath loosens him. “Thank you, for trying again. I know I was hesitant at first, but, I'm really glad you suggested this.” 

“Good,” Alfred smiles. “That’s good.”

A thought occurs to him, and he snickers to himself.

“So, I know that was a horrible situation and not what either of us would ever want in real life,” he mumbles against Toris’ scalp. “But, I kind of really liked that we were married in that scene."

Toris chuckles, peering up at him. "Really? That's adorable."

“Guess I'm a bit of a sap, huh?”

“Oh, but I love that about you.”

Toris kisses him, soft and mellow, and Alfred sighs happily.

“We should probably get you patched up soon, though,” he suggests, kissing the corner of Toris’ mouth. 

“Mmn,” Toris mumbled, eyes slipping shut. “Probably.”

“Come on, don't fall asleep on me just yet,” Alfred says teasingly, giving his shoulder a little shake. Toris whines back at him, but sits up all the same. He feels stiff and moves carefully, groaning in his throat as the welts on his back throb.

Alfred tugs their care kit from under the bed, sitting behind him and, ever so gently, tracing his fingers across the wounds, old and new. 

“This is gonna sting,” he warns, uncapping the disinfectant spray.

“I know,” Toris says calmly, but still flinches when the spray hits. Even now, exhausted and aching, he relishes in the pain, and the gentle kisses Alfred leaves at the nape of his neck and across his shoulders, feeling his gentle breath against his skin.

“You know, I love you an awful lot,” he sighs, then giggles when Alfred's hands come around his middle and gently tug him back into his lap.

“Love you too, hon,” Alfred mumbles into his neck. “Here, gimme your hands.”

Toris watches Alfred rub ointment into the raw skin on his wrists, large hands warm and gentle, before intertwining their fingers and leaning forward to kiss Toris’ cheek. “Need anything else? Water, food? Want me to run a bath?”

Toris just shakes his head and slumps into his arms with a heavy, content hum. “Just want to stay here,” he mumbles. “With you.”

Alfred sighs as he sinks back into the bed, smile pressed to Toris’ forehead. “Yeah, me too.”


End file.
